


Dressed With Delight

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Saturday Night Live RPF
Genre: Coming In Pants, Established Relationship, M/M, Semi Public Sex, episode coda, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 09:32:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18989974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: A pre-show quickie between the guys.





	Dressed With Delight

**Author's Note:**

> so at the start of 5/11/19's Weekend Update bit, I'm pretty positive Che's got sweats on, and it's hysterical. Naturally, had to put to fic the reason for said sweats. 
> 
> Big thanks to Hannah for beta'ing! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Che catches him by the elbow about ten minutes before they’re due on set.

Colin goes easily, willingly, into Che’s embrace. The framed photo on the wall behind him digs uncomfortably into his back as Che presses him up against the wall, hands moving to Colin’s hips. His touch, even through the layers of Colin’s undershirt and pressed dress shirt, burns like a brand.

“Michael,” Colin breathes before Che kisses him. Soft and surprisingly gentle for the urgency in his hold. Colin wraps a hand around the back of Che’s neck and keeps him close as they kiss. It heats up quick and Colin can feel his own cock thickening in his slacks. _“Michael,”_ he hisses again, breaking the kiss. “We gotta get on stage.”

“In a minute.” Che turns and bites at the sharp jut of Colin’s jaw at the same time he rolls his hips forward. Colin gasps and, loathe as he is to admit it, just melts in Che’s hold. His knees go weak and he clings to Che’s shoulders as the other man clearly sets about to _ruin_ him. At least Che keeps his hands out of Colin’s hair—the last thing Colin wants is to go on national television with _sex hair_.

Colin’s hands scramble along Che’s back as he ruts against Che. They both stop talking in favor of gasping and grunting, moaning softly, their voices getting a little too loud each time their cocks brush.

“Fuck, Che,” Colin gasps, throwing his head back. The frame digging into his back has faded into a dull ache but when his head collides with the wall behind him, his foggy mind clears a bit. It’s enough to check his watch over Che’s shoulder. “Five minutes,” he gasps.

Che bites his neck, hard; his hands have found Colin’s ass and yank him closer. He drags Colin’s body rhythmically against his own, grinding against Colin and chasing his pleasure without a care in world. All the while, Colin’s caught between the heavy haze of arousal and the mind-numbing anxiety of not making it on stage on time. He knows the crew could work around a slight delay, but he hates causing that sort of trouble—and yet he likes Che too much to stop.

“Fuck, babe.” Che’s next moan is deep and guttural; it vibrates against Colin’s neck and sends a shiver running down his spine. Che humps his hips forward and comes with a trembling moan, his whole body quaking against Colin.

Che slumps against him, and the frame behind Colin starts to hurt his back again. He doesn’t rush Che though, despite the unease fluttering in his chest. He has a soft spot for when Che gets like this, all close and nuzzling and disarmingly sweet. Che kisses the mark he undoubtedly left on Colin’s neck, then leans back with a smirk.

“What?” Colin asks warily.

“You’re gonna need a quick trip to makeup,” Che teases. He presses his thumb against the mark before stepping back. “You got two minutes.”

Colin sighs; his cock is still half hard but the knowledge that they need to get their asses to their chairs is enough to lessen the need thrumming in his veins. He looks Che up and down appreciatively but finds himself lingering on Che’s crotch. “You need a trip to wardrobe,” he mimics.

Che looks down and swears colorfully. “Alright, fuck. See you in five?”

“Make it three or it’ll be our asses.” They share another quick kiss before they take off in opposite ways, makeup at one end of the hall and wardrobe at the other.

When they finally make it to stage only a mere five seconds late, Colin nearly swallows his tongue at the loose sweatpants Che’s wearing. He manages to keep his composure through the entire segment, even though the sight of Che in a dress shirt and blazer on top and track pants on the bottom is _distracting_ , to say the least.

Weekend Update ends and Colin doesn’t immediately stand. Che swivels in his chair to grin at him.

“Think I owe you one,” Che says in a voice that’s low but absolutely still caught by their mics. One of the crew off to the side, headphones still on, grimaces. Colin practically yanks his mic off and watches Che do the same and then they’re finally tripping their way off stage and toward their shared dressing room.

They’re barely inside when Che pushes Colin up against the door and grins.

“Somethin’ on your mind, Jost?” Che asks. His hands are nimble as they undo Colin’s belt and slacks.

“Your stupid sweats,” Colin gasps as Che gets a hand around him. “Not to mention you left me fucking hanging!”

Che kisses him, apologetic but still wearing a shit-eating grin. He doesn’t actually say sorry, but he twists his wrist the way he knows Colin likes and that’s it. All the tension and heat from before comes barreling back like a rush of adrenaline. Colin’s grip is wrinkling the crisp lines of Che’s suit jacket and when he comes, it’ll almost certainly stain some of their clothes—preferably Che’s sweats, but more than likely it’ll be Colin’s shirt—and Colin doesn’t give a single fuck.

Che peppers kisses all along Colin’s neck; he even yanks at Colin’s tie to get at the skin just under the collar of his shirt. He leaves another mark, and Colin has a second to spare thanks that this mark is at least easier to hide, and then Colin’s coming as Che’s teeth sink into his skin brutally. Colin throws his head back again and the pain only sends a second rush of arousal through him and he bucks into Che’s perfect, just-this-side-of-too-tight hold.

Che works him through the aftershocks and pulls away at just the right moment, just before Colin’s about to tip into oversensitivity.

Che wipes his hand on his sweats. “Now we’re even.”

Colin rolls his eyes. “Like that actually matters.”

They’ve got a while yet before it’s time for the after party. Plenty of time to get changed, maybe go another round, and probably get a lecture from someone about fooling around on set.

Colin grins and says, “You owe me a back massage, by the way.”

“The fuck I do,” Che retorts, equal parts fond and sharp.


End file.
